


My Fingers Dance with Yours

by alanna_the_lionheart



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Burns, Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s05e23 Lian Yu, F/M, Fluff, Gentle touches, Heartbeats, Hope, Hurt/Comfort, Love, One Shot, Romance, Scars, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Tattoos, Touching, bratva tattoo, olicity - Freeform, spec fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 21:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10975380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alanna_the_lionheart/pseuds/alanna_the_lionheart
Summary: Spec coda to 5x23. After their ordeal on Lian Yu, Oliver and Felicity fall asleep in each other’s arms for the first time in more than a year. As Felicity strokes the new burn on Oliver’s chest where his Bratva tattoo used to be, she finds herself regretting the time that they’ve lost. But Oliver’s not the same man he used to be.





	My Fingers Dance with Yours

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know what happens in the finale, but just assume for the purposes of this story that all the good guys make it home alive and okay and that nothing drastic ever comes of that cryptic “see you on the boat” line. 
> 
> Inspired by a gif & a conversation btw @smoakyfelicity @latinasmoak & @muslimsmoak on Twitter. Also helped along by a considerable amount of cheerleading/flailing from Jess & Alejandra. ;)
> 
> (Link here: https://twitter.com/smoakyfelicity/status/866498895077150720 ; I highly recommend looking at the gif before you read)

**My Fingers Dance with Yours**

 

When they finally make it home to Star City, Oliver brings Felicity back to the loft himself. After coming so close to losing her (again) he’s loathe to leave her side, and Felicity feels the same way.

 

They’re both exhausted from the ordeal, more than ready for bed, but they’re also dirty and sore, and so Felicity grabs Oliver’s hand and leads him into the bathroom. They undress each other silently - both grateful for the familiar, comforting touch - and then climb into the shower together. Slowly and carefully, they clean themselves and then each other. Oliver shampoos her hair and gently wipes the blood off her face, while Felicity scrubs hard at Oliver’s shoulders, trying her best to massage away his pain.

 

Neither of them says a word, and neither of them has to.

 

They come back together as easily as if they had never been apart.

 

Once they’re clean, Oliver leads her to the bedroom, and they dry each other off. Felicity rests her cheek against Oliver’s shoulder as he runs a towel through her hair, and she sighs softly while he brushes it.

 

Finally, they climb under the covers. They don’t bother with clothes, and Felicity’s heart aches at the feel of his body warm and strong beside hers. She yearns to be with him - to take him inside her in a way she hasn’t since last summer - and she knows he feels the same, but they’re both just too tired. Instead, Oliver lies on his back and Felicity curls up at his right side. She rests her head over his heart as he wraps his arm around her back and pulls her in tight.

 

Felicity lets out a long, deep breath, moving her right hand up his side and resting it on his chest. Oliver grabs her hand in his, entwining their fingers.

 

And in less than a minute, the strong, steady feel of his heart beating against her cheek lulls her gently off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Felicity wakes less than an hour later, the last remnants of a nightmare she can’t quite remember slipping through her mind like sand through her fingers. She squirms uncomfortably as a lingering feeling of fear makes her heart race, but as she moves she feels a comforting grip around her fingers, and she smiles as she realizes that Oliver is squeezing her hand.

 

She shifts slowly against his chest, trying not to wake him. Oliver sighs but he doesn’t wake up. He tilts his chin down toward her head - like he’s reaching for her even in his dreams - and as he smiles softly in his sleep she’s struck suddenly by how _young_ he looks in this moment.

 

Felicity smiles at the thought, and she revels in the feel of his heart still beating strong underneath her. His body is warm, and she sighs as she adjusts herself carefully, snuggling tighter against his side. She wants to be as close to him as possible, because she’s been away from him for far too long. She wants to curl up so close that the two of them become one, because Oliver is her home and she never wants to let him go; not ever again.

 

As she moves, her hand slips out of his, and she mourns the loss at first. But then her fingertips graze the skin over his left pec, and Felicity gasps at the unfamiliar sensation….

 

...because where the Bratva tattoo once lay there’s rough, scarred flesh: bright red and still healing.

 

Felicity moans quietly as she tenderly caresses his skin. She knows every inch of Oliver’s body as well as she knows her own, and maybe even better. She’s mapped every burn, every brand, and every scar, and she could trace the lines of that black inked tattoo in her sleep (and most likely she has).

 

But now it’s gone.

 

She knew it was gone, of course. She saw the raw, burnt skin with her own two eyes the night he returned to them - the first night in six days when she finally felt like she could sleep again.

 

But to see it up close - to trace the rough contours of the new scar with her own fingers - is something else entirely.

 

“Oh, Oliver,” she whispers, and without thinking she lifts her head and presses her lips against his burnt skin, kissing him softly.

 

Oliver sighs, shifting underneath her, and Felicity moves over until her head is resting on his shoulder. Her fingers resume their gentle stroking of his chest.

 

Oliver tilts his face toward her and opens his eyes, blinking slowly as he takes in the sight of her: alive and whole and finally back in his embrace where she belongs.

 

“Hey,” he whispers, voice raspy from sleep. He smiles down at her as he wraps his right arm tighter around her small frame, his fingers tenderly caressing the skin of her upper back.

 

“Hey,” she whispers back, and she stops stroking the mark when his hand grips hers once more, squeezing it firmly.

 

“Are you okay?” he asks gently, and he starts rubbing soothing circles along her back.

 

She tilts her head up toward his, and the look of concern in his eyes makes her regret waking him up. He’d looked so peaceful in his sleep, so content. She wonders briefly if he’d ever slept this well when they were broken up, but she strongly suspects that he hadn’t.

 

Felicity had always slept better when she was in Oliver’s arms...and she knows that he did, too.

 

“I had a bad dream,” she admits. She moves her hand in his, unwilling to lose his grip but needing to touch him, and her fingers stroke unconsciously against the burn.

 

He gazes down at her thoughtfully, letting her caress his skin, and he doesn’t flinch or pull away.

 

“ _Felicity.”_

 

She gasps at the familiar sound of her name on his lips, said in the way only _he_ can say it.

 

She rests her hand over the burn, covering it with her palm, and she feels him shiver beneath her as her tears wet his skin.

 

“ _I’ve missed you_ ,” she whispers, her voice breaking slightly. Oliver wraps his hand tightly around hers and pulls it away from the mark, resting it against his stomach instead.

 

“I missed you, too,” he responds, and when his voice breaks like hers did, Felicity feels a bit better. She shifts her hand in his grasp, and Oliver smiles as her fingers start to dance with his.

 

“I wish I could’ve been there for you,” she says quietly.

 

Oliver frowns, but he doesn’t stop running their fingers together. Instead he readjusts his head against the pillow so he can see her better.

 

“What do you mean?” he prompts gently.

 

Felicity takes a deep breath, and once she starts talking she finds that she can’t stop.

 

“I wish I could’ve been there for you after what Chase did to you. I know it’s my fault because I pushed you away, and we never really talked about what happened with William or that night in the bunker, and I know you didn’t want my help at the time, but-”

 

“ _Hey,”_ Oliver whispers, and Felicity stops talking at once. She feels more tears threatening to fall, but he doesn’t let them. Instead he lets go of her hand and carefully wipes them away with the same fingers that had so lovingly danced with hers only seconds before.

 

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” he assures her, and Felicity gasps as he strokes her cheek. She reaches up and grabs his wrist, pulling his hand away from her face, and she kisses his fingertips, still wet with her tears. Oliver’s breath catches in his throat as she kisses her way down his fingers, caressing his knuckles with her lips, and the rough skin feels warm and familiar under her touch. She kisses the back of his hand before pulling away and running her fingers up and along the same spot. She entwines her fingers with his and squeezes, smiling at how small her hand looks wrapped around the back of his. Oliver grips her fingers in turn, and he rests their clenched hands on his chest again.

 

“I wish I could’ve been there for you, too,” Oliver admits. “After Havenrock, and Billy, and losing your job...and when you started walking again.”

 

Felicity sighs, snuggling her face against his neck.

 

“I guess who both have regrets,” she responds, and Oliver continues to rub her upper back, trying to soothe away the tension he finds there.

 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “We do. But that’s not the only thing we have.”

 

He pulls his hand away from hers just long enough to grip her wrist, and he lays her hand over the spot where his Bratva tattoo once sat: right over his heart.

 

“We have a _future_ ,” he tells her, and without even thinking, Felicity begins to caress the mark once more. “This burn...it’ll always remind me of the past, just like the tattoo did. But the past doesn’t have to hold me back anymore. Not if I don’t let it.”

 

Felicity smiles, gazing up at him fondly.

 

“Leave the past in the past,” she says, and Oliver smiles back at her.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Felicity stops stroking the burn and shifts in his embrace, moving until her head is resting over his heart like it was when she woke up. Oliver settles back against the pillow.

 

“Go back to sleep, Felicity. Everything’s going to be fine.” His fingers find hers, resuming their slow, familiar dance.

 

“I know,” she tells him.

 

Because she’s safe here in his arms, just like she always has been.

 

Because Oliver’s ready to live for the future instead of dying in the past.

 

Because they’re together again.

 

Because they’re _home_.

 

The tattoo is gone now, burned away by a madman….

 

...and maybe….just maybe….

 

...it’s for the best.

 

Felicity whispers three small words against Oliver’s skin, and when he kisses the top of her head and whispers them back she knows they’re going to be okay.

 

A few minutes later, Felicity falls asleep to the rhythm of Oliver’s heart and the feel of his fingers dancing with hers.

  
_...the end…_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you didn't cry too much like I did. Reviews feed my soul. :)


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